Here's What I Remember...

Las Vegas is a hell hole. A hell hole I could find myself spending the next 30 years of my life in, if I wasn't going to choke on my own vomit within two years. Sure, it's hot as fuck but in my fantasy life in Vegas I'm a complete shut in. Days are spent in a large hotel suite surrounded by mountains of fast food wrappers, empty whiskey bottles, and prescription pills. Wait, trade the hotel suite for my room at my parent's house and I think we're talking the same thing. Even my fantasies are depressing.

So our time spent in Las Vegas wasn't that different from the sad and horrific fantasy described above except that it was the complete opposite. The actual show in Vegas brought out around fifty or so kids to see all the bands. I can understand the low turnout, in Vegas there are more important things to spend money on such as whores and booze. Plus, PBC has only played the area once before so all in all, the show went over quite well. While at the show, both Living With Lions and Bi-Polar Bear Club decided to go in on a cheap hotel in order to get to know each other a bit more sinfully. Two rooms were booked for seventy five dollars apiece - one room for each band. Everything was done online so we had no idea exactly how big or how small the rooms would actually be. Personally, I was hoping the quarters were so tight that I'd have to use Goose as a mattress or blanket. I love young dudes. Moving on...

Rolling into the hotel, Bally's, like a pack of rabid hobos, we waited for Emmett to check us in. Excitedly he told us that our rooms had been upgraded for some reason I forgot to inquire about. It was for free so I didn't much care, I'm not a details person. It was time to get upstairs in order to see what awaited us. Unlocking the door, PBC were greeted with a room that was bigger than my house. And by my house, I mean my parent's house. A quick scan of the room revealed a view that overlooked the main strip, a bar, multiple televisions and enough couches to house every member of the band and myself. The room stretched on for as far as the eye could see and the best part was we had only seen half of place! Heading down a hallway led us to a king size bed, more couches, another television, a tub, shower, bathroom and a bidet for Goose! All of this for 75 dollars! The joke of the night was that we were living like Motley Crue circa 1988 and made a grand total of 80 bucks at the show earlier in the night.

I don't ever gamble, I already have too many addictions but this night I felt the gentle tug of Gamblor at my wallet. Heeding the call, a couple of us quickly went to a casino that was selling one dollar margaritas. Once again, I was doing something I usually don't do which is drink shitty frozen drinks but I needed to feel loose and pretty before giving away my last twenty dollars to either a blackjack dealer or slot machine. So after a quick taste, it was off to Living With Lion's casino of choice, Harrah's. While that crew bellied up to a blackjack table I took my spot at a penny slot machine. Being the infant that I am, I'm attracted to noisy, shiny, tall things so the choice was obvious. Nate was kind enough to explain the rules of the game as well as sit next to me at the other gambling machine. I put a dollar in and about 45 minutes later I was up 25 dollars. On the other hand, Nate hadn't won a god damn cent but he felt the need to tell me how much he hated me for accumulating a tiny fortune. I attempted to explain to him a person such as myself who has been cursed with male pattern baldness and the penis size of a Ken doll, deserved a little luck but he clearly wasn't hearing any of it. Who the hell knows where he stormed off to. Actually, who the hell knows where I went because the next thing I knew it was nine am, I was in the king sized bed alone, I stunk of cigarettes, stripper, bile, and bad decisions. My 25 dollars I had won earlier was long gone and all I had to show for it was a blaring headache and a ever expanding beer gut. I blame it all on Living With Lions. Two hours later we were on our way to Phoenix, Arizona.

Ah, Phoenix. Your 107 Fahrenheit weather on a day where I was still drunk and slept only a couple hours is what really drew me to you. Well, actually, I was looking forward to the show since the last time PBC played the area, the show went over really well with at least 100 kids coming out. At that time we were on tour with Broadway Calls and Crime In Stereo but I liked our chances with Living With Lions even if they are filthy Canadians. Arriving a bit late due to issues that had nothing to do with being hungover, panic mode struck when the promoters explained to us that not only did the venue lack any type of power or electricity but the whole city block was out as well. With no time table whatsoever as to when power would be restored, all we could do was wait it out and hope for the best possible outcome. Sure, events like this happen all the time but I think we were all hoping for a relaxing last day of tour.

Thankfully, the show was booked by really great promoters who with the help of a lot people, were able to move the show to another venue. In fact, the new venue was actually the same as the venue we played last time. (This paragraph is going to have the word venue in it a lot.) Unfortunately, changing show locations meant the first two opening bands weren't able to play due to the show also now starting much, much later. But when life hands you lemons, I like to make lemonade. By this I mean, there was a bar really, really close to where we were now so Trevor sauntered over and tied on a legitimate buzz. So at least we have that. Fifty or so kids were sincere and kind enough to stick around for a show that was now starting about three hours later than it should have. So, kids and Phoenix promoters - thank you.

I'd love to tell how you the actual show went but I was nowhere to be found. I wasn't at the bar either. I was off sweating somewhere, who knows, maybe the merch table. What I can tell you is that I was dreading the end of the show. Not only would Polar Bear Club be saying goodbye to our new best friends in Living With Lions, some of us would begin a 40 hour drive straight back to our homes in Rochester/Syracuse, New York. Why? Well, Mother's Day was coming up. Emmett, myself, Goose, and Jimmy were all shot out of vagina's so we were nominated to head back home on the suicide mission. Nate was flying to New York right after the show in order to see his very talented girlfriend receive a prestigious award for journalism (Hi, Jazzy!). Chris Browne was either hatched or developed in a lab so he was to stay in Phoenix. He may or may not be there still. I hope to write about our trek back home within the next couple of days but the weekend is coming up and you know that's when Daddy plays. (Most unsettling sentence ever written?). I'd like to think the best part of that tale is me getting behind the wheel of a van and trailer for the first time in five years. Talk to you then.